


We'll Defy Fate

by AllTheLokisWelcome7



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Destiny, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fix-It, Gen, Mentions of Dreamwalking, Promises, ending rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 09:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheLokisWelcome7/pseuds/AllTheLokisWelcome7
Summary: As the party prepare for the final battle, they stumble upon a woman named Muse. She carries the key to their future, just as they hold a secret that could save her life. All Mikleo has to do is make the right choice.





	We'll Defy Fate

“Muse!” Sorey called, waving to get Lailah's attention.

Mikleo ran to assist the woman, taking no notice of the way his knees hit the stone floor. As Lailah prepared a healing spell, Muse stirred in his arms, rolling onto her own knees. He dutifully helped her to her feet, staring bravely at her back. There was so much that he wanted to say, but for the first time in his life, his silence was born of an inability to find words.

Until last week, he didn't know that he still had a mother. He hadn't known his past, or his purpose, beyond what Gramps had told him and his personal experiences. He could have only hoped for such an important role, to be needed not just by Sorey, but the world. But to find out that his mother was alive, and served a similar role... It was a lot to process.

She wouldn't look at him. It left a vaguely hollow feeling in his chest, beneath the pang of rejection.

 _No, that's not quite right,_ Mikleo corrected himself. Analysing the situation was a habit that he had made for himself, and it never failed to help him steady his nerves.

 _It's not that she_ won't _look at me, but that she can't. If she does, she knows that she might be swayed. And, if she feels the same way that I do, then she knows how important this is. But, still..._

“Thank you,” Muse muttered. Her face was stony with her resolve, features drawn tight with concentration as she took a few unsteady steps. She held out her hand for her weapon. “My staff, please.”

Mikleo's hand at her shoulder trembled slightly. Beneath it all, he too knew what it was to be a willing sacrifice, but his resolve strengthened even as his world crumbled around him.

_There's no way I'm letting her carry this burden alone._

Cold shivers ran down his spine as he gripped her weapon, dread coiling in his stomach, and Sorey bumped their hands together. Mikleo stared into his face, gaze firm but questioning. They exchanged a look that spoke volumes, written in a language that only they knew, and Mikleo was again grateful for their bond. He always was.

He nodded, tilting his face downwards in time to watch Sorey's hands leave the staff. Its full weight felt right in his palms.

_This is my birthright._

Carefully, he guided it into Muse's outstretched hand, but refused to let go. Still his words failed him, but this might be the only chance he had. He _needed_ to say something.

“Mother.”

Muse looked at him, then, her stare disbelieving and guarded.

“Who... are you?”

“Mikleo.”

Her grip tightened on the staff as she swallowed. This had to be a dream, surely?

“Mikleo,” she repeated quietly. Her voice wavered subtly, disbelief still the most prevalent emotion. “My son?”

He nodded, bending his knees to stare up at her. Hesitantly, her free hand reached for his cheek, and he welcomed her touch. She swallowed again, but her gaze was steady and analytical, observing every feature in his face.

“You have my eyes.”

The corners of Mikleo's mouth were tense as he smiled. “I have you to thank for many of my attributes. Your resolve, your weapon, your selflessness...”

“I never thought I'd live to see the day.” A grateful smile spread across her face, a more relaxed mirror of his own. “I thought I would be long gone before you learned of me. You grew so well.”

Her hand moved to ruffle his hair gently, and Mikleo felt inexplicably small with the gesture. Emotionally, it felt no different to when Gramps would praise them in their childhood, rewarding them with the same action. He tightened his grip and exhaled shakily, breathing through his forming tears.

_Now isn't the time to cry. There will be time enough when the world is at peace._

“Thank you, Mikleo. This is more than I could ever ask for.”

“Mother. I...” He stood straighter, reaffirming his resolve. “Let me help you. Please.”

“But you'll need all of your strength for the final battle. I can't let you throw away your chance at a better life.”

“And I can't leave you to die!” Desperation coloured his words, giving them a weight greater than his barely raised tone. He held her free hand anxiously. “You can borrow my power. I have enough to spare this much. If we work together, we can both live.”

“This world needs you to succeed, my son. But my place in it has ended.”

“Didn't I die for this power? Wasn't my sacrifice made to stop all of this?”

Her expression told him everything that he needed to know.

“Won't you let me take my place by your side? Please?”

The line of her mouth hardened, and concern flooded her features, but she relented. Her hand left his hair to grip her staff firmly.

“You're right, my son. Let us disperse the malevolence, together!”

A pale, watery light spread from the crystal atop the ceremonial staff, bathing the room in its glow, and the fog of malevolence burst into flames where the two forces met. Their eyes remained closed until they could sense that the air was distinctly lighter and their breathing was no longer laboured against the overbearing energy.

Muse was the first to move, stumbling. Her son reached for her quickly, keeping her on her feet, his hands steadier on her arms.

“Mother! What's wrong? Did I not use enough energy?”

She gripped his hand, beaming up at him. Even before the ritual, she hadn't looked quite so happy to see him.

“I'll be alright. It is thanks to you that I did not need to give my life for my cause.” She pulled him into a firm hug, then, relieved at how tightly he returned the embrace. Finally, they broke away, his hands at his sides and hers on his shoulders. Muse stared intently into his eyes to ensure that he understood her next words. “Now go, my son. Fulfil your destiny, and return to me safely.”

“I will, Mother!” He graced her with one last, thankful glance before he hurried to join the others.

Muse made her way to a wall, sliding down it to rest as she watched them leave. Her eyelids felt heavy, her limbs aching, and exhaustion spread throughout her body.

_I'll just... rest my eyes for a moment._

* * *

“Mother!”

Mikleo shook her awake some hours later, face distraught. The ruins were trembling more fiercely in her vision than what he could be doing alone, and as she focused her eyes, she could see flecks of dirt falling from the ancient stone above them.

“Mother, the ruins are collapsing. We have to go now!”

Muse got to her feet with his help. Together, they made their way to the exit, the others already up ahead. When they stepped onto the fresh grass of Elysia, away from the crumbling entryway, she fell to her knees.

“Please, can we rest here, first? We should be safe now.”

“If you can manage to get back to the village, we have beds that you can sleep in. It will be much more comfortable. Do you need me to carry you?”

Mikleo sounded strained, and when she studied his face more closely, she noticed that he had been crying. With this realisation, she found the strength to return to her feet, cupping his face.

“My little Mikleo... What has happened?”

“Gramps. I... he...”

His breath caught, and he trembled under her hands.

“And, Sorey... I'll see him again, but... I wish you'd got to really know him. I'm sure you would've been proud.”

“Mikleo, I _am_ proud. Of you, of Zenrus and Sorey, of everyone. There were so many times where you could have failed, but you overcame them all, and here you stand before me. I could not be more proud of you if I tried.”

“M-Mother?”

“You're right. We should return to the village. You deserve a rest too, my son.”

They held each other, each with an arm across the other's back, and slowly made their way to Sorey's house. Lailah left to speak with the other Seraphim huddled in Zenrus' house.

Mikleo shed more tears as he curled up on Sorey's dusty bed, quiet sobs escaping his lips as he held himself. Already he missed him, even with the certainty that they would meet again. But he cried because he loved him, and now he had no way of introducing his best friend to his mother. All of the possibilities that may once have been, but no longer could be, haunted his exhausted, grief-stricken mind.

The bed shifted behind him, and for the briefest moment, he dared to hope that it was Sorey. But the hand that fell on his back was too small. Still, the comfort she offered was more than he thought he would receive once he saw Sorey make his choice, so he accepted it.

“I can see that you cared for him greatly. Even if you never said anything to him, I'm sure that he would have known.”

“He did,” Mikleo exhaled shakily, sniffing. “As I said, I'll see him again.”

“Then why do you weep, my child?”

“Because you will never get that chance. The next time we meet, you will be long gone. After all, for all of your power, you're only human...”

She sighed quietly, staring up at the shelves of broken pottery. Her hand rubbed absent circles into his back.

“He might visit us in dreams. He _is_ the Shepherd, after all. It would not be beyond him, even in his destined state, to learn how.” She turned to him then, her smile warm. “After all, isn't he sleeping?”

“Yes...” Mikleo allowed the small smile to spread across his features, and he rolled onto his back to face her. “You're right again, Mother. It seems as though you always are.”

“Well, not always,” she confided as her hand found his hair. “I've made my mistakes, as have we all. But I've learned from them, and used them as motivation to grow. And I think that is important.”

“It is.” He yawned, blinking awake before deciding to close his eyes. He shifted to make room for her. “I hope he visits us soon. I want you to meet him.”

“He will visit at the first moment he is able,” she promised. “After all, he loves you too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before I learned from the Seraphim in Gramps' house that Muse not interacting with her son was part of her oath. Until that was pointed out, I was confused and hurt by that scene, wondering "Why won't either of them say anything?"
> 
> I completed this fic after finally finishing the game, and I found that I didn't want to rewrite the rest of it. It feels important that it happened the way that it did. So I've done what I can, based on my interpretation of the ending scenes, to fix the conflict I wrote into this fic while remaining canon-compliant.


End file.
